Ylva's Hunt
by Choccy Otter
Summary: Rated T for a fight scene and mentions of blood. This is my first story so constructive criticism is appreciated, but not abuse. This is what I imagine the back-story is to my character; there is a mention of a new race but hopefully it isn't lore breaking. Hope you enjoy!
1. Chapter 1 - Bandits in Falkreath

I own nothing except my own character, everything else belongs to Bethseda softworks (except the Ashen mod).  
This is an introduction to my Dragonborn Ylva. The Ashen race is by Seren4XX is found on the Nexus as a mod.

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I was only 15 when I started wandering around Skyrim. It was a dark time for me; I had only the armour I carried on my back, and a looted hunting bow to keep me safe. But what I also carried was knowledge: knowledge of who I was, my mother's knowledge of alchemy, and my father's knowledge of the wilds. I am an Ashen, a race of wanderers who left Akavir to avoid slavery; we never wanted trouble, you wouldn't even recognise us as being different from other humans if you saw us.

It was 4E190 when my life changed; I lived with my parents in an isolated farmstead in the forests of Falkreath. My father would hunt to provide us with food, the skins we would sell to buy what we needed. My mother was a keen alchemist: she would wander the forest for plants to make potions and poisons. The poisons she would give to my father, to "give him an edge" she used to smirk; we would keep some healing potions for emergencies, and sell any other potions to Zaria at Falkreath.

It all started on an ordinary day: my mother and father had skins and potions that needed to be sold, but they couldn't go into Falkreath that day – father was ill from a bite he took while hunting the day before, and mother had to stay to look after him; however we still needed some more money, so I chose to walk to Falkreath with the skins and potions to sell. I walked down the path onto the road with only my dagger and fur armour for protection. When I got to Falkreath, I bartered at Grey Pine Goods: skins for a potion to cure disease, I thought it might be useful to give to father. I then visited Grave Concoctions to sell the potions mother gave me to sell, Zaria always seemed nice to me despite her strange attachment to the cemetery.

I left Falkreath at around three in the afternoon after some food in the tavern in high spirits: I had made a profit with the potions and skins, and the potion I brought might be of some help to father. But as I got closer to home, a feeling of unease crept up on me; I smelt smoke and the unique smell of death on the wind...

I didn't hesitate. I ran back home as fast as I could, but I wasn't fast enough.

When I burst into the clearing I saw that my home was burning; the thatched roof was ablaze, the wooden walls crumbling into ash, mother's alchemy garden trampled and destroyed. Bandits had destroyed my home on a whim...

As I walked quietly around the clearing, I noticed that there were still a couple of bandits around the ruins of home, hunting for any valuables they might have missed; they were talking amongst themselves about how they were going to spend the gold they found. My fists tightened in anger, my face curled into a snarl and my hand went towards my dagger. I had to strike: I crept up behind one of them and backstabbed him – it didn't kill him and it alerted his friend to my presence, but I didn't care; I was running on adrenaline, I barely noticed the arrows being shot at me by the distant bandit, I just wanted to kill these intruders who had destroyed my home. The bandit who I backstabbed when down fairly quickly, his body fell to the ground and started to bleed out. I looted a dagger from the bandit's corpse, and ran towards the other bandit still firing at me. I pounced on him before he took out his sword, knocking him to the ground and I stabbed him repeatedly in the chest until he stopped moving. It was only then that I stood up slowly; I was shaking, my armour and pale skin was smeared with blood, and I had several wounds from the arrows fired at me. I slowly removed the arrows from my body and healed myself as much as I could – restoration was never my strong point. I then collapsed on the ground with exhaustion, and just sobbed until I fell asleep.

When I woke up at sunrise, I noticed that it had rained during the night and the fire had blown itself out; I investigated the ruins of my home. There was almost nothing left: my parent's locked chest containing spare potions and arrows managed to survive the blaze although it was slightly charred, and my wooden doll from when I was young. I also managed to find my parent's corpses on the floor; they were badly burned and barely recognisable, they must have tried getting out but could never reach the door. I removed the bodies and buried them in the woods under a tree, and planted some seeds around the ruin and their grave as a memorial; when spring came, there would be lots of mountain flowers and nightshade around as a marker. After some hesitation, I decided to place my old doll on the stone hearth in what was left of the house - I didn't need it anymore. I sat down on the grass staring at the ruins of my home, I think I daydreamed because it was all a bit of blur after that, all I was feeling was sadness and hopelessness: everything I had was now gone, I was homeless and alone.

It was approaching sunset when I realised that the bodies of the bandits I killed were still lying around. I wondered if they had anything that would tell me where they came from; as I looted their pockets I came across a barely discernible scrawled note. All I recognised on it was the word 'Knifepoint'; I didn't know what it meant, but it had to mean something. I resolved to ask about 'Knifepoint' at Falkreath, perhaps the guards would know something. I took the note, the bandit's bow, the potions and arrows I found in the chest and left to walk down the path to the road, leaving the bandit's bodies to either rot or be eaten by wolves. I turned back for one last glance towards my home, and as I continued down the path I had only one thing on my mind: _Vengeance._

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__I'll start writing another chapter when my exams are finished. Please review and any advice would be appreciated.


	2. Chapter 2 - Leaving Home

I own nothing except my own character, everything else belongs to Bethseda softworks (except the Ashen mod).  
Thanks to Newtinmpls as my first reviewer!

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Dawn rose over Falkreath. A loud knocking disturbed my sleep; in that drowsy moment between sleep and waking, I was back at home with my mother knocking her stick on the floor to wake me up, father would be smirking in his chair enjoying an age old joke. The realisation dawned on me – mother and father were gone, my home was destroyed, I was sleeping on Zaria's floor as I had nowhere to go. Despair sought to consume my mind again; tears were starting to well up. The knocking on the door continued, loud and disturbing.

"Alright, alright, I'm up already!" – Zaria always seemed to be a heavy sleeper, and enjoyed the moment before she got up from her bed; Zaria was going to be irritable for the rest of the day from being disturbed. She hurriedly put on her usual clothes and opened the door.

"Well? I haven't got all day. What is it?"

A male voice answered, "Pardon me ma'am, but as we understand it, an underage girl is staying with you, correct?" It was one of the guards, presumably sent by Jarl Dengeir. The Jarl of Falkreath was always suspicious of newcomers, so it wasn't a surprise that my presence was alerted to him by the night guard.

"Yes, what of it? Ylva's parents were killed by bandits; she can stay as long as she likes."

"That may be so ma'am, but the laws of Skyrim state that as she is still underage and orphaned," Who did this guard think he was, I thought, I could hear him! "She has to go to Riften and stay at Honorhall until she comes of age."

A chill entered my soul. Honorhall was a place that parents threatened their children with if they were naughty. Any child that entered there only left at the age of 16 when they were considered adult; nobody was ever adopted, and those who left as adults were 'numb' – devoid of emotion. Many turned to crime as they had no other skills, they weren't schooled at Honorhall.

Luckily Zaria was on my side. "Absolutely not! Ylva is no trouble at all; she can work and live with me until she comes of age."

"I'm sorry ma'am, but she has no choice. The Jarl has already sent notice to Riften for a carriage to be sent for her. We expect it to arrive tomorrow"

I couldn't stand it anymore. Leaping up from the floor, I shouted "You can't! I'm only one year away from being an adult, I want to stay with Zaria and learn how to be an alchemist!"

The guard turned away, "I'm sorry, but you have no choice. It's the law…"

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The guard was true to his word. The carriage to Riften arrived the next day, I was still kicking and screaming like a child having a tantrum as the guards dragged me on as a crowd watched, Zaria was still protesting to the guards about me leaving. My few belongings were already on the carriage, the armour and weapons I had taken from the bandits had been confiscated, so I was defenceless. The road to Riften was rough; it was evening when we finally arrived at Riften – the city of thieves. I had stayed stubbornly silent throughout the whole journey even though the carriage driver had tried to make conversation. At the gates, one of the guards grabbed me by the arm and took me to Honorhall – it seemed that they were used to children attempting to escape from Honorhall, and had learnt to be rough.

The faceless guard hammered on the door of the orphanage. A sickly sweet voice answered, "Just a minute!" A moment later an old woman answered the door, her greying hair pulled into a bun, and wrinkles lined her face, but she wore a smile like a mask. "Ah, is this the new one?"

"Yes, ma'am, just arrived from Falkreath. Parents were killed in a bandit raid."

"Poor dearie," She addressed me, "Now come on in, and let Grelod the Kind look after you." She grabbed my arm, the same way the guard did and dragged me inside. The door locked tight behind her. When the door was shut, her demeanour immediately changed.

"Now you little gutter rat, we have rules here: number one, you do what I say when I say; number two: no adoptions; number three: disobedience gets a beating. Understand?" She was threatening and aggressive. I finally understood how the rumours of Grelod were not exaggerated. I remained silent, just staring at her in a move of defiance, a rather stupid decision in retrospect.

"You little dumb shit! DO. YOU. UNDERSTAND?!" When I continued with my silence, Grelod slapped me on the face, leaving a red mark. "Disobedient brat! You'll learn respect here; I'll see that you do."

Grelod snapped at another kid around my age, "Show this brat her bed, and tell her how things are done there." She let go of my arm, and stormed off to a large room at the end of the dormitory. The other kids standing around the dormitory slinked off away from Grelod and avoided looking at me.

The girl Grelod had also snapped at walked cautiously to me. "You really shouldn't have done that, she's going to be in a bad mood for the rest of the week…"

Whispering, I replied "Is she ever in a good mood? It seems that the only time she lives up to her name is when she's around other people."

The girl smirked at my observation, "That's true, anyway I should do what she says, I don't want to be put in the closet." She indicated a door on next to Grelod's door. "My name is Constance, what's yours?"

"It's Ylva; what did Grelod mean by 'the way things are done here'?"

Constance indicated towards my bed and we walked over quietly, "Well, we only get one meal a day; we have to do all the housework, there is a yard outside but we are only allowed out if we do all our work – even then Grelod keeps an eye on us. We aren't allowed out into the town without supervision from Grelod, that's only once a month at most. The Black-Briar family fund this place, so we have to tidy up and pretend we're happy if Maven comes to visit, which she does rarely."

I was shocked, "How does Grelod get away with this?"

Constance looked at me with emotionless eyes, "Because Grelod is a friend of Maven Black-Briar, and the Black-Briars own Riften in all but title."

As I suffered a fitful sleep, I resolved to myself – I had to escape and return to Falkreath. I couldn't stay here, even for a year.


	3. Chapter 3 - Honorhall

Sorry for the late update, university is hectic. Hope you enjoy this chapter, and as always please review - I like knowing what people think and knowing how I can improve. Read on...

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A month had passed, and I still hadn't left Honorhall. Over that time, I had got to know the other kids that had backed away from me when I had arrived.

Constance was the eldest, and the bona-fide leader of the younger children. I learnt that she arrived in Honorhall four years ago after her parents became ill and departed for Sovngarde. She always seemed to look out for the other kids; she would give the youngest children food from her plate, always remarking that she wasn't starving and that they needed the food more; she would also help other people with the housework if they were feeling ill. She had also said that even after she became of age, she would still live in Honorhall to look after the kids. I developed respect for her after hearing this – it takes a certain type of person to be completely selfless even in bad circumstances.

There was also a Nord kid called Asbjorn who looked to be leaving soon, the local blacksmith had seen him looking at him work and was looking to apprentice him – Grelod just muttered behind the blacksmith's back, "Go ahead, take the mangy runt. Just one less mouth to feed, but don't blame me if he steals all your stuff and pawns it. I won't take him back".

The other kids were an Imperial called Edda, and two more Nords Addvild and Safiiri. They mainly avoided me, I don't know why. Edda was the youngest, and seemed to be quite confused about what has happening – Edda kept saying that her aunt would come and bring her back home; Constance however whispered to me that she supposedly saw her aunt be killed by bandits, no one know where her mum and dad were or even if they were still alive. Addvild was a quiet kid who mainly stayed out of everyone's way, but he had a way of volunteering to take over other people's jobs for them which mainly abused by Safiiri. Safiiri was the second oldest after Constance. When Constance was selfless, Safiiri was selfish. She never really talked to anyone, so no one knew how she came to be at the orphanage, but she always seemed angry about something. I noticed that wherever she happened to be, little objects always seemed to go missing...

However to the rest of the world it was as if we never existed outside the front door. Nobody came in through the front door without Grelod constantly looking over their shoulder. The harsh regime that she had imposed had meant that I soon lost some weight, I went hungry every day. I still refused to speak to Grelod, something which I was beaten a lot. However, the first time I tried to escape in the first week I was there, I realised how much of a sadist Grelod could be, but I never gave her the pleasure of hearing me beg.

When I was just a kid, my mother always told me "Never bow down or give in to a tyrant. Our people never sacrificed our principles, and neither should you." It was only now that I truly understood what she meant – if I gave in, I would lose everything that I was and everything my people had fought for.

I always woke up earlier than everybody else in the orphanage, although to wake up earlier than Grelod wasn't too difficult – there always seemed to be a smell of strong mead and stale beer emitting from her room, and she never woke up before midday. Once I got up, I would practice the skills that my father had taught me from hunting I would work on my flexibility and sneakiness by stalking the other sleeping children and attempting to hide under beds if I noticed them moving in their sleep. I always volunteered for the jobs that involved lifting heavy things; I knew those jobs would help keep my remaining muscles in shape. Once, I examined the locks of the front and courtyard door, but only Grelod had the keys which were heavy looking and kept on a piece of chain attached to her belt – pickpocketing them from her was out of the question. On the few occasions I had been in the courtyard, I saw that the walls were too high to climb over and had spikes on them.

Despite Grelod's security measures, eventually I could see a few escape routes; I could either lose Grelod and the other kids on the few trips into Riften – I had noticed that an entrance into the sewers was often left open – and after dark, I could sneak out of the city. That choice didn't appeal to me, I was told that there were bandits and thieves living in the sewers, and skeevers... I HATE skeevers! Another option would be to climb up through the orphanage chimney while everyone was asleep, but that was extremely risky- what if I got stuck? My third option was to intentionally poison myself, so it would look like I was seriously ill; then I would be taken to the temple of Mara to 'recover'. The priests never liked Maven Black-Briar, once I had explained everything to the priests they could maybe smuggle me out, or at least get me out of the orphanage by claiming that I had turned to the Nine. After some thinking, the third option was chosen. Excitement filled me when I thought that I would soon leave Honorhall forever.

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Guess who Safiiri was?


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